


How To Date Templeton Peck

by tck489



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Some Humor, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tck489/pseuds/tck489
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It suddenly dawns on Hannibal that he needs to take Face on an old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness date</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Date Templeton Peck

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for an anonymous prompt on ateam_prompts

It dawns on Hannibal as he's got Face's legs wrapped around his waist that he's mistreating the kid.

Not like this -- the kid's fucking moans of pleasure were loud enough that it had his neighbours banging on the wall on a nightly basis. No, the sex was good. The sex worked. When Face and Hannibal were two sacs of flesh pounding against one another, everything was fucking fab. Else they wouldn't be risking their careers, their friendship, wouldn't still be fucking like a pair of horny rabbits after six months of this shit.

As complicated as having a ton of dirty fuck sessions with his Lt. probably should've been, it was also blessedly easy. Like impossibly easy. Like how Face could always hand him a cigar, when it shouldn't have been possible to roll over and grab the box off the nightstand, not when he'd just been fucked boneless and was still sticky with the evidence of it. The kid who hated the smoke wouldn't even complain about Hannibal smoking in his bedroom, he'd just roll over with a sound of contentment and pass out like a good little freshly fucked lieutenant.

But now as Face's eyes stayed shut as Hannibal ploughed into him, as his stunning blue eyes flicked open for just a second looking away from him, Hannibal was realizing that that sound wasn't such a content one, that Face always rolled away rather than into Hannibal. With these things coming together, he vowed that it would all change. He would start treating Face right, show Face that it was really him he wanted to curl up with after they sucked and fucked the night away and not a cigar.

Hannibal couldn't remember the last time he'd been on an honest-to-god date. He'd certainly never been on one with Face. Must've been the early '80s, taking that pretty brunette Carol out for dinner and a movie. Was it Italian and _An Officer and a Gentleman_? Well, Hannibal was certainly no gentleman the way he was treating his emotionally fragile Lt. like a blow up doll with a cigar box.

When they finished for the night, Hannibal brushed off Face's offer of a cigar and instead kissed him softly at the temple below his sweaty curls. He was going to make it up to the kid, show him how much he really meant to him, even if it meant a thousand grandiose romantic gestures.

* * *

Hannibal wanted to start making up for his mistreatment right away, but a mission had come up and so romantic planning for Face had to be replaced with tactical planning for Morrison.

When the team returned from the mission that hadn't gone all that according to plan, Hannibal resumed his plans to formally woo the man he'd been fucking. So after they debriefed and the boys were heading out, Hannibal called on Face to hang back.

Face acquiesced, but did so slightly combative, jutting his chin out stubbornly. "I don't know what more you want from me, boss. I know I fucked up! But honestly how was I supposed to know the --"

"Hey, hey, kid, slow down. I know." Hannibal looked down momentarily, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, "I only wanted to ask if you had plans tonight."

"Oh," Face said, tilting his head, lips pursed, a little deflated that he'd been denied his defensive tirade. But not that disappointed if he and Hannibal were going to have a different forum to let their emotions play out. "No, nothing that can't wait."

"Great, great, I'll swing by your place at 8. And Face? Remember what you wore Monday?" Hannibal thought of the three piece suit the kid had worn for a con, tailored perfectly to compliment his trim waist and fit ass.

"Uh huh," Face said, his eyes twinkling.

"Would you mind, um, ...?"

Face laughed loudly filling Hannibal's suggestive silence. "It would be my absolute pleasure to wear that again for you. See you at 8, bossman."

As Face bounded out of the room with a wink, Hannibal quickly packed up his things. He had a lot to do before 8.

* * *

When Hannibal got buzzed into Face's building, he only paused in front of the elevator for a moment. Jamming the up button with his large index finger, he barely waited for the up arrow to illuminate before impatience won out and he headed for the stairwell.

' _Get a grip, Hannibal_ ,' he thought, pushing through the door with his forearm, juggling the gifts he'd picked up for his date.

As he climbed up the stairs to Face's floor, he thought back over the last hours: the reservations he'd made at Face's favourite restaurant only to cancel them realizing they'd be more discreet in the next town over; the suit he'd had to rush to the cleaners because it smelled too strongly of moth balls; the debate he had over chocolate or flowers and finally decided to play it safe and go with both…

There had been a few hiccups, but he'd made it through. The plans were made and now he just had to play the cards. Sure, he hadn't been on a real date in forever, but, he reminded himself, ' _It's only Face_ ,' everything would be just fine.

Even though he had rushed up the stairs, Hannibal waited in front of the door, looking at his watch waiting for the second hand to get around and knocked on Face's door promptly at 8.

"It's open!" he heard Face yell from inside.

Hannibal tried not to let that throw him off. If Face wasn't ready yet... he stopped himself before he could start thinking about the domino effect it would have on his carefully planned date. He was always two steps ahead of the enemy, but when it came to planning a date with Face Hannibal was a fish out of water.

"You still getting dressed?" Hannibal said, barely succeeding at keeping the anxiety out of his voice as he looked at it his watch. It was tempting to throw away his plans for the night and just take Face now in his bedroom. But he couldn't, that's what this was all about after all -- treating Face the way he deserved to be treated, spoiling him and showing him a romantic night.

"No, in the kitchen!" Face shouted back, and Hannibal's stomach dropped a bit at that. 8 _was_ a bit late for a dinner date, if Face had already eaten... He wanted to surprise him with the date, but if not spoiling the surprise meant spoiling the dinner... well, at least Face was dressed and ready to go. Face could take ages in the bathroom, so this was a relatively minor kink in the plan.

Hannibal headed toward Face's small kitchen, flowers and sweets in hand. If there was a Gentleman's Code of Dating Conduct, it probably said to sit in the living room and wait until your date was ready, but Hannibal hadn't read that dating manual. "You haven't spoiled your appetite have you?" Hannibal asked cautiously.

But Face laughed loudly at that, "Don't worry boss, you know I'm always hungry for you."

Hannibal pushed through the light swing doors that marked off the kitchen from the modest apartment, chuckling at Face's comment "Good to know, but what I meant was --"

Face wouldn't find out what Hannibal meant, though. As when Hannibal entered the kitchen, flowers and chocolates hit the floor along with his jaw at the sight that greeted him.

* * *

"Face, what-?"

"-the fuck are you wearing Hannibal?!"

Each man expressed their surprise at the sight of the other simultaneously.

Hannibal couldn't believe his eyes, there was Face, in the tiniest pair of silver lamé briefs he'd ever seen. And he'd seen these before, on Face, when he'd stripped Face's three piece suit off of him, on Monday.

Hannibal groaned, and sat at the kitchen table blessedly close by. Of course that's what Face had thought he'd meant when he asked him to wear Monday's outfit again.

Face poured the finger of scotch over the ice in the glass he'd been preparing for Hannibal, and slid it in front of the suffering colonel.

Face pranced back over to the counter and cracked the top off of a bottle of Budweiser for himself, he took a long pull from the bottle seductively. As he sucked on the bottle he flexed his abdominal muscles, showing off his toned body to Hannibal, who was doing his best to ignore the sight in front of him, staring into his scotch, or at least trying to. He stole a glance at Face -- was that body glitter?

He groaned loudly again.

Face strutted back over to Hannibal, sliding up behind him.

"What's wrong boss? Can't handle this again after all?" Face said and wiggled his butt.

Hannibal downed his scotch, twirling the ice in the glass, he began, "Face, please go put some clothes on."

Face startled at that, "What? Hannibal, what? What did I do?" Face made no move to go find clothes, but he slumped a bit, his body that was entirely on display showing waning confidence.

"This is my fault," Hannibal said forcefully, "this is why I should've done this a long time ago."

"Done what? Dressed like a character from _Miami Vice_?" Face ran a hand along the incredibly padded shoulders of Hannibal's suit. "No offence boss, but unless that long time ago was 1985, no you shouldn't have. Never."

As Face looked at the rest of Hannibal's attire, satisfied the suit jacket was the worst of Hannibal's fashion offences (though the wide high-waisted pants were a close second), he noticed the discarded flowers and the heart shaped box of chocolates.

Hannibal watched Face lean over and pick them up, his body unable to deny how much he enjoyed the sight of Face's fit body bending over.

"Boss?" Face said questioningly, holding up the chocolates, "This for me?"

Face tapped at the cardboard box and Hannibal could see the kid putting the pieces together.

"You wanted me to wear _my suit_ not what I had underneath it." Hannibal nodded. "You wanted to go on a corny date?"

"Face," Hannibal warned, " _Corny_ wasn't really what I had in mind, I was thinking more along the lines of _romantic_ or _special_ or..."

"Stop, Hannibal, I get it. I mean I don't, but I do," Face rambled.

He slumped into the other seat, dropping the flowers and chocolates on the table, the gifts looking as dejected as both Face and Hannibal.

"Is this not working? Am I not enough for you?"

Hannibal couldn't believe that he'd been worried about being late for dinner reservations, or worried about picking the right kind of chocolates, not when he'd royally messed everything up. In trying to show Face how much he meant to him, he'd caused Face to doubt it, but the ease with which Face had jumped to that conclusion told Hannibal that he had hit on an underlying issue.

"Face, that is not at all what this is about," Hannibal said, placing a hand on Face's bare thigh, "I cherish everything about you."

"Even how I fuck up and put on underwear instead of a suit?"

"Yes, absolutely, especially that" Hannibal said, sliding a finger up the tight briefs. He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Face's cheek, "But not _only_ that. If you didn't get me the best cigars, or make me my favorite drink," he gestured to the empty glass, "or so generously give me your body, I'd love you just the same, you get that right?"

Face squirmed uncomfortably, "Yes, of course I do, who do you think I am?"

"Really Face, do you? I know you and all your insecurities and I thought that if we went out, if I showed you outside of the bedroom, how much you matter to me you might start realizing that."

"I'm not a 14 year old girl, Hannibal. I'm a Ranger. We're Rangers, _Army_ Rangers engaged in -- totally hot -- incredibly illicit sex. I don't exactly expect to be _courted_ by my friggin' CO. I mean we're hardly discreet as it is!"

Hannibal blushed, with Face in his glittery underpants and Hannibal in his dated suit, Face had a point.

"You're right Face, maybe… maybe… it was kind of for me too. I wanted to take you on a date, maybe it's not just my suit that's a little old-fashioned."

"I'd be honored to go on a date with you Hannibal, but, it's just a date. It's a show -- I know that better than anyone. Look, I know I've got my problems, I know I'm not perfect, and that you deserve better than me"

"Face..." Hannibal started.

"But what we do when we're alone, what we can't do when we're in public -- I'm not stupid, I know you care, that we have something special."

Face stood up and dragged Hannibal with him, "Now, if it's not too late, I'd love to go on that date. I'm going to put something else on, and, you, lose the jacket. Then we'll go, ok?"

Hannibal didn't like everything Face had said, but this was a start. "Deal."

* * *

More than thirty minutes later, Hannibal was still in Face's kitchen, picking at the box of chocolates, jacket discarded, as promised. Hannibal glanced at his watch tentatively. He'd already called to cancel the reservations they had long missed, busied himself putting the flowers Face had paid little mind to in a makeshift vase but he was getting restless (again). He didn't want to rush Face, but if he spent much longer getting ready they'd be hard pressed to find any place that would still seat them this late on a week night.

Just as Hannibal was prepared to ask Face if he was done preening, Face appeared in the kitchen.

"Ready?" Face asked, as if Hannibal hadn't been the one sitting around waiting the last half hour. Face shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly, as if he hadn't been the one who spent the last half hour carefully perfecting his look.

Hannibal was a little disappointed to see Face hadn't put on the suit he'd been imagining, but Face looked great just the same. The dark grey dress slacks pleasingly hugged his ass, the light blue oxford shirt was ironed crisp, with an open collar revealing a peek at a tan chest and wisps of chest hair.

"I know, it's not the suit -- but I don't even have it any more, I had to return it to the guy…"

Hannibal cut him off, reaching for one of the hands jammed in a pocket. Face looked good and Hannibal couldn't deny the more casual look better matched his own outfit without the jacket. Hannibal brought the hand up to his lips and kissed it delicately.

"You are gorgeous no matter what you wear, Templeton"

Face rolled his eyes and tried to pull his hand back. "Seriously?! Templeton?! When have you ever called me that _John_?"

"I'm only trying to make this special for you…" Hannibal said a bit defensively, though he hadn't forgotten Face's earlier comment about the insincerity he thought inherent in these kind of gestures.

"Sorry, I'm trying, I know this is important to you."

"It is," Hannibal agreed, though he didn't really know why it was, "but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Can you let an old man spoil you for one night?"

Face threw a glance at the half eaten box of chocolates on the table. Yeah, the whole date thing was cheesy, but it was authentically them too.

Face leaned up and kissed Hannibal, "So where are you taking me?"

"Well, I cancelled the reservations I made, but I know a decent Italian spot…" Hannibal trailed off, awaiting Face's approval.

"Sounds great… but promise you won't do the thing where we both happen to eat the same strand of spaghetti and wind up kissing... because I might puke"

Hannibal swatted at Face's butt lightly, "You can have your own plate of pasta, brat."

With Face laughing as they headed out of the apartment, Hannibal had renewed hope for the date. If they could keep their easy rapport going, showing Face a romantic evening might still be a success.

* * *

Face had played along pretty well so far, now that the date had actually begun. He let Hannibal open the car door for him, take his coat off him when they arrived at the restaurant, even let him fuss over a bottle of wine and appetizer, but he'd drawn the line at letting Hannibal order his entrée for him.

Though the Italian restaurant with its red and white checkered tablecloth wasn't the fancy candlelight dinner Hannibal had planned on, the food was fine and the company was better.

Despite Face's earlier remark about cutesy food sharing, he had offered Hannibal a fork of his pesto penne that was apparently to die for, but when Hannibal had merely shrugged and said his spaghetti bolognese was better he'd been unable to stop Face from stealing bites from off his plate.

Hannibal had tried to be the perfect gentleman all night, pouring Face more wine, but not too much -- he didn't want to get him drunk, not when he had already cut himself off to be okay to drive. Face wasn't exactly a lush, but Hannibal had to be sure Face didn't feel he was being taken advantage of on this date.

He'd kept the conversation light, for the most part. He'd mentioned that last proper date he'd been on decades previous jokingly and inadvertently veered into a conversation about the earlier insecurities Face had gestured to if not actually voiced.

"Kid," Hannibal said, reaching across the table cleared of their plates to grab one of Face's hands in both of his. "If you're ever not happy, if something doesn't feel right, you _tell_ me, okay? There's nothing I wouldn't do to make you happy. You're an amazing man and you deserve the world." Hannibal paused as Face blushed, uncomfortably at the words of praise. "You don't think you're as amazing as I know you are, well I'm obviously not perfect at this stuff. So, please, help me out when I'm messing up too much. You don't have any trouble speaking up in the field, you should do it here too."

"Okay," Face said after a beat, and Hannibal could see even that much was a struggle, but Hannibal would take it for the small step in the right direction that it was.

And then the waiter had returned asking if they wanted dessert. Before Hannibal could attempt to order some tiramisu to share Face provided a long response in Italian, something Hannibal couldn't understand but he thought he heard something about fudge.

"I know I said to speak up, but don't you think it's getting a bit late to order the whole dessert cart."

"Don't worry Hannibal, I just told him to bring the check, that we had other plans for dessert."

And now it was Hannibal's turn to blush. "The uh, you, uh, didn't take them off, did you?" Hannibal leaned over, whispering.

"You'll find out soon enough," Face said, playfully wagging his eyebrows.

The waiter came back, sliding the bill on to the table, "Thank you gentlemen, I hope you enjoy your special homemade fudge."

Hannibal turned beet red and blessedly the waiter had disappeared quickly. "Face!" Hannibal hissed putting far too much cash into the bill holder, "You didn't! How are we ever supposed to come back here!"

"Oh come on Hannibal," Face laughed, "He has no idea!"

Hannibal wasn't so sure, quickly helping Face back into his coat, and awkwardly waving to the waiter cleaning up another table.

"Maybe not," Hannibal said, not slowing down their exit, "But let's get out of here anyway..."

Back in the car, after Hannibal had of course gotten the door for Face again, Face whispered softly, "Thanks, Hannibal, it was a good date, one I didn't know I wanted, but it was nice, really, thank you" and then Face leaned over and initiated a passionate kiss with Hannibal.

"Mmmm," Face moaned, "I was dying to do that all dinner... Now let's get out of here, dessert's waiting!"


End file.
